


Interlude - Lizzie & the Boys

by Jonelin



Series: Gloria & Piers & Raihan [5]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentioned Mary | Marnie, Original Character(s), Raihan and Piers are just talked about, Team Piers!, Team Raihan!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29956098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonelin/pseuds/Jonelin
Summary: It was the end of another successful open mic night.  Lizzie, Sid, Georgie, Kamal, and Hen are all sitting at a table, drinking some water, as Emma, the new singer who blew the roof off the house with her performance that night, was slumped forward with her forehead on the table.This takes place directly after the end ofDates - Piers & Raihan.  It's the same night, and their friends sit around and talk about them after the bar is closed.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Series: Gloria & Piers & Raihan [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074263
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Interlude - Lizzie & the Boys

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head, and it demanded to be written. Along with another little one-shot about Leon that I'm gonna post right after this.
> 
> I don't think you have to read any of the other stories to get this one. To catch you up if you haven't, Piers and Raihan are boyfriends, and have been together for four months. They have one standing date, and that's going to an open mic night at a pub in Spikemuth once a month. Boom! Now you can read this. Read the last bit of other story if you want to see a description of Eddie, since I didn't bother to repeat that here.

It was the end of another successful open mic night. Lizzie, Sid, Georgie, Kamal, and Hen are all sitting at a table, drinking some water, as Emma, the new singer who blew the roof off the house with her performance that night, was slumped forward with her forehead on the table. 

Emma moved to Spikemuth from Turrfield, of all places. A farm girl who grew up watching the gym battles on the telly with her family. Instead of being inspired to be a trainer, seeing a certain singing gym leader in action sparked something else in Emma. She begged until she got a guitar for her birthday, and she learned to play by ear, copying songs off the radio. She could even play guitar to Piers singing in battle. When she was a teen, she got her folks to take her to Spikemuth to see Piers perform in concert, and her life was changed forever. She began writing her own music, and moved to Spikemuth two years later. Tonight, was her first time performing on a stage. The fact that her idol was in the audience watching her, was a fact that she was glad she didn’t know about until after she was done.

“How many shots we do?” Emma whined into the table top. 

“Too many, by th’ looks of it” quips Eddie, the owner of the club, as he turned another chair upside down to set on the table behind them, his long, blue hair tied back in a ponytail. It was after closing, but the gang felt obligated to take care of the new girl, even though it was Raihan who brought her into the group tonight. Him and Piers left early, and usually Lizzie would have teased him about bailing to get some with his boyfriend, but Raihan looked wiped. That just means she owed him extra teasing next time. 

Lizzie, the poet, is a Spikemuth native, and from the bad side of town. Though if pressed, most people outside of Spikemuth would be shocked about there being a ‘bad side.’ She had a real rough time as a teen. Crappy parents, and worse boyfriends. She doesn’t talk about her history, except through her poetry slams that she shares at every open mic, where she can hide the details in rhyme and rhythm.

“Be right back,” and Emma was up fast, heading for the loo. 

“What did you lot do ta’ tha’ poor kid?” Eddie says, as he starts his usual walk around, checking the floors for lost items. “An’ you!” he shouts to Smitty, the bartender, who was wiping down the last of the bottles, finishing up his closing duties. “Ya’ served the poor lass too much.” 

“Oi, they order ‘em. I don’t know who drinks ‘em,” Smitty shoots back. “And I’m done, boss. Need anythin’ before I go?”

“Nah, see ya’ next shift,” and with that Smitty waves goodnight to everyone and heads out.

Eddie looks back over at Lizzie and the boys, and gives them a withering look. Most of them had the good graces to look properly chastised, but Sid sat back in his chair, with his hands behind his head, looking entirely unrepentant. 

“She ‘eld it well, yeah? Jus’ caught up with her at the end, is all. She’ll only regret her poor life choices fer a day. This is ‘ow legends are born,” and Sid throws up devil horns with both hands. 

Sid, the bassist in the house band, is a scrapper, who spent a good part of his life on the streets, after being tossed out of his house at a young age by his parents. He spent a few years, just getting by, being reckless, and having no guidance. Until Eddie found him, and took him in. After a few years of getting his life together, he now shares a flat with Georgie. He’s still a loud punk, but he’s also a mostly functional adult.

“Need any help, there Eddie?” Kamal asked.

Kamal, the drummer, was always the sweet one. Always the new kid, even though he’s lived in Spikemuth since he was nine. His family came from Johto with nothing. His parents now lived in Circhester, with a thriving business, but Kamal couldn’t leave Spikemuth. Not when he worked so hard for his place here. Plus, it was an exciting time to be in Spikemuth, as old businesses were flourishing, and new ones were starting. Watching his home in Galar start to thrive was something to behold, and it made him proud. 

“Won’t say nah, if ya’ dun’ mind. Only thing left is wrappin’ the mic cables to stow.”

Kamal gets up and jumps on the stage, as Eddie takes his seat at the table, sighing as he gets the weight off of his feet. They sit there quietly, sipping their water, each wondering if they should go check on Emma. 

“So, Team Piers or Team Raihan?” Hen breaks the silence.

Henry, the singer, was also born and raised in Spikemuth. He was always the odd Ducklett, even as a tot. He was a skinny kid, with feminine features. He was just as comfortable in jeans as he was a dress. He never quite seemed to fit in anywhere, until he met Kamal, when he first moved to Spikemuth. They became fast friends, and looked out for each other, even if that meant they were both getting beaten up at the same time for being weird. Rather than changing for the sake of fitting in, he stayed true to himself, and now some of those same blokes who picked on him, try to be his friend after seeing his band play. He’s one of the cool kids now, but he doesn’t let that go to his head. 

“Sorry, wot?” Georgie had been zoning out, and the shout in the silence got his attention back on his mates.

Georgie, the guitarist, was born in Spikemuth, but he moved around a lot. His accent was a weird mash of all of the places he lived. Georgie tended to be seen as dense, but he wasn’t. He is more than happy to sit back and watch, and listen. He was above average in intellect, and he threw himself into school and books as his family moved. He learned early on that making friends, when he didn’t know when he’d have to leave again, sucked. 

“Team Piers or Team Raihan? I’ll start. I’m Team Raihan,” Hen continues. Most everyone still looked confused, but Sid piped in quickly.

“Yer a traitor! Totally Team Piers.” 

“I don’t get the question,” said Kamal, as he expertly twisted the last wrap of a cable to put in the crate.

“Well, if they were leading a team for,” Hen waves his hand around, “whatevs, doesn’t matter, which team would ya’ pick?” 

There was a short pause in the conversation as everyone watched Emma make her way back to her seat, plopping her head down onto the table.

“Well, explain why ya’ picked Team Raihan, then,” Georgie cuts in.

“Rai’s a tall drink o’ water. Bloke has legs for miles. And he’s smart,” Hen taps his head with a finger, “smarter than he lets on. Runs the vault in Hammerlocke on top of bein’ the top gym leader. Plus, he knows how ta brand and market ‘imself. Have ya’ seen his PokéSnap account?”

“Team Piers, cuz he’s our hero. Single ‘andedly kept this town outta the shitter. Now with tha’ tosser Rose in the nick, the light at the end o’ the tunnel is in sight, kids,” Sid finished with a flourish. 

“I’d have to say Team Raihan,” Kamal chimed in. He was sitting on the edge of the stage, feet dangling over the edge. “He’s an outsider, like me, but was welcomed in so much easier and faster than I was. That’s skill. I admire him for making you feel welcome, too. Bet the lot of us could roll into Hammerlocke, looking like we are ready to raise hell, and Raihan would make us feel like life long residents.”

“Team Piers,” and then a groan, as Emma sat back into her chair. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was bright red, but her face still lit up when she said his name. “He is my idol. I’ve looked up to him since forever. Learned to play so I could be like him. Meeting him tonight, having him expend actual energy to talk to me? Better than any dream.”

“Oi, yanno he’s taken, yeah?” Sid said. The table collectively groans. 

“We all know what’cha meant, Ems. Don’t mind Sid. He’s got no manners,” Lizzie finishes with a smack to his arm. “Fer me, it’s Team Rai, yeah.”

“Why?” Georgie asks, when she didn’t immediately follow up. 

“Have any of you lot ever asked me ‘bout me slams? First night he was here, he asked if I was OK, asked about the slam, and listened. Heart an’ ears open.”

“Ya’ know, Lizzie, we might seem a thoughtless bunch, but don’cha think for a bit that we don’t hear. Me at least. I started to catch my own shite actions. Started noticin’ when I was makin’ a lass uncomfortable. But you’re right. We should have said somethin’, so, ‘m sorry.” Everyone froze because that might have been the most inciteful thing they ever heard Georgie say. 

“Thanks, Georgie. That means the world. But now it’s yer turn,” Lizzie said, clasping Georgie on the shoulder.

“Team Piers. He’s just so ace.” Georgie lifted his fingers and pushed them down as he counted off. “First trainer in my lifetime outta Spikemuth to make it to the semi’s back in the day, high level gym leader without dynamixin’, even when the town was at it’s lowest, his concerts still brought people in and kept the money flowin’, he’s a feckin rock star,” and Sid threw up devil horns again at that one, “and he’s the brother of the best gym leader we’ve ever had!”

That brought a gale of laughter from the table. Even Emma, who was holding her head in her hands giggled at that. 

“That sounds like a vote for Team Marnie,” Kamal laughs. 

“Hold up,” Hen called out. “That’s a tie, innit? Hands up for Team Piers.”

Sid and Georgie raise their hands high, while Emma wiggles the fingers on her right hand. 

“Alright, Team Rai.”

Hen raises his hand, along with Lizzie, and Kamal. 

“Oi, Eddie. Yer the tie breaker. What’s yer vote?”

The old punk leaned back in his chair, hand stroking his chin as he thought.

“Team Piers,” and a chorus of ‘ _yes_ ’ before, “and Rai.” 

“Wot?” Georgie looks at him squinting.

“Georgie’s right, Eddie. That’s dodgey,” Kamal chimes in.

“Team Piers & Rai. Tha’s me vote.” When six sets of eyes set on him, he continues. “Everythin’ ya’ lot said about Piers is true. And whatcha said about Rai is true. But together? Emma wouldn’t ‘ave ‘ad her powwow with Piers tonight if it wasn’t for Rai, yeah? And none of us would ‘ave met Rai without Piers.”

“Bollocks,” said Sid. “He’s right.”

“’Course I am, lad. Now, who’s takin’ little miss Emma home? I‘m old, and wanna close up an’ go home meself.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this, thanks for indulging my world building plot bunny. I just wanted to play with dolls. Comments and critiques welcome. <3


End file.
